Justifiable Vengeance
by QueenC4
Summary: A Malfoy's revenge is the cruelest of all. DARK FIC!!!


Title: Justifiable Vengeance  
  
Author: QueenC  
  
Feedback: queenc@HotPOP.com  
  
Pairing: Hermione/Lucius  
  
Rating: Heavy R for dark, disturbing themes.  
  
Category: Dark/Non-Con  
  
Words: random, smash, window, sinister  
  
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling is a Goddess. I merely borrow her creations from time to time. Please don't sue me.  
  
Distribution: Anywhere I send it. If anyone else wants it just let me know.  
  
Spoilers: Through GoF, although this takes place years after Harry and co. graduate from Hogwarts.  
  
Summary: A Malfoy's revenge is the cruelest of all.  
  
Author's Notes: This is the answer to the 'You Can Leave Your Hat On' Challenge that's posted at the Yahoo Group 'The Smutty Classroom'. If all goes well, this will be a highly disturbing fic that will make you squirm in your chair. If I'm not capable of pulling that off, at least you'll have a bit of smut to read. As per the challenge requirements, the words in bold are the four words that I chose from the list. Words in *'s are emphasized. Enjoy!  
  
WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS TORTURE, RAPE, CHARACTER DEATHS AND OTHER THINGS TO MAKE YOU GO 'NYUGH'. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.  
  
Special Thanks: To Child, my partner in narf, for putting up with my temper tantrums at this all-too elusive plot, as well as for spiffy beta job.  
  
******  
  
-- Hermione's POV -  
  
I'm going to die soon.  
  
I can feel it, the cold hands of death slowly closing in on me, making me jump at noises that don't exist and shadows that aren't there. You would think, after all the things I've seen during my twenty-eight years on this planet, that death wouldn't frighten me so.  
  
After all, it isn't as if it is something new to me. I saw more than my fair share of it during that final battle between Harry and Voldemort. I held friends and enemies alike as they lay crumpled on the ground, writhing in pain and choking on their own blood. I watched as the light fled from their eyes until they were nothing more than corpses.  
  
I helped bury both of the Weasley twins, not to mention Seamus Finnigan, Oliver Wood, and many other fellow Gryffindors. I attended funerals of Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and even a few Slytherins who had decided to follow the example of their Head of House and spy for the Light.  
  
I even killed a few people myself.  
  
I used to remember who they were. It took years following Voldemort's final defeat before I stopped having nightmares. Before I could close my eyes without seeing myself on the battlefield, my wand drawn and my mouth screaming curses at random.  
  
Now, though, the screams are merely echos in my mind. Background noise that I've learned to live with. I really don't mind, because they're almost a part of me now.  
  
But, I digress. The point I was making was that I shouldn't be afraid of the death that I know is coming. And perhaps I'm not. Perhaps what has me so frightened isn't that I'm going to leave behind my friends and family. Perhaps what I'm worried about is that, before I finally leave this world, I'm going to suffer something far worse than death.  
  
How do I know this, you ask? Simple, I'll tell you. I know because I know who is going to kill me. I know the person that is going to be standing over me, sneering as I take my final breath. And I know that he's spent the last ten years thinking of various ways to torture me, to make me *wish* I were dead while he's been rotting away in Azkaban.  
  
You see, Lucius Malfoy is to be my killer.  
  
I can still see him, all those years ago, the look on his face as they were taking him away to serve his sentence. His calm facade was smashed to pieces, and in its place was a man that had nothing left to live for. After all, his wife had taken her own life months before, when she realized that her side wasn't going to win the war. And his son.  
  
Well, I took his son from him.  
  
He had vowed his vengeance on me, looked me directly in the eye and swore he would see me suffer before he choked the life from me with his bare hands. And I believed him. I still do.  
  
I have no doubts in my mind that Lucius Malfoy is more than capable of maintaining his presence of mind until he can see his twisted form of justice served. And, as a mother of two, I can understand his motivation. If anyone did *anything* to my children, I'd hunt them down and make them beg me to end their life.  
  
And I'd do it with a smile on my face.  
  
So, to say that I can't see his reasoning behind wanting me dead would be a lie. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to just *let* him kill me. After all, as I just said, I have my own children to think about. And a husband that loves me, and friends that I care very deeply for. It is because of them, and my own strong sense of self preservation, that I took measures to protect myself.  
  
At first, I had hoped that the Ministry would step forward and offer to assist me. However, there is very little they can do. By the time those that were corrupt had been forced out of office, it was too late to change Lucius' sentence. And, ten years later, Aurors are still in a frenzy trying to round up everyone that worked for Voldemort. Therefore, the most they can offer me is a few Junior Aurors to stand guard outside my home, as well as escort me around in public.  
  
Like a few wizards and witches who are still wet behind the ears are going to be able to protect me from an enraged father, not to mention former Death Eater.  
  
Arthur Weasley had explained to me that they could only follow Lucius the first month after his release. If, after that time, he hadn't done anything suspicious they had to treat him with the same respect that they did all other criminals that had served their time.  
  
I had wanted to scream in frustration at him, to try and make him see that Lucius Malfoy was hardly your run of the mill criminal, but I knew it would do no good. I mean, if anyone knows what he's capable of it's the Weasley family. So, I had merely thanked him for what assistance he could give me and then proceeded to do what was necessary to try and keep myself alive.  
  
I placed considerably heavy wards around every door and window that leads into my home. I owled Severus Snape, asking for every curse he knew. I was extremely grateful when he sent me quite an extensive list, never once asking what I needed them for.  
  
I thought about sending my children away. Possibly to stay with my parents, or even asking Harry and Ginny if they would take them off my hands for a few weeks. However, one mention of that plan to their father, who had pointed out that Lucius could just as easily try to take our son away as retribution for what I had done, and it was quickly forgotten.  
  
No, I would keep my children with me, where they belonged. They would go to school, my husband and I would continue working, and we would live our lives as normally as we could.  
  
Merlin, I was such an idiot.  
  
All the time that I spent 'protecting' myself, all the effort I put in to making certain that my children didn't have their lives disrupted, all of it was for naught. It took Lucius Malfoy less than five minutes to kill the two guards out front, by-pass the charms placed around my home, and walk in through the front door like he owned the place.  
  
He entered my living room with a sinister smile on his face, causing me to drop the quill that I had been using to write with. Aiming his wand at me, he ordered me to stand up slowly and not to make a sound.  
  
Thinking of my children that were asleep upstairs in their rooms, I obeyed him. Rising to my feet, I flinched ever so slightly when he approached me. His cold eyes locked on mine, he calmly reached into my pocket and pulled out my wand. Then he took a step back, looking me up and down.  
  
I bit my lip to keep from crying out as the first curse hit me. It wasn't as painful as the ones that had been used on me during the war. However, it did cause my knees to buckle and I crumpled to the ground in a heap. It was only when I tried to stand back up that I realized what he had done.  
  
The spell he used had a darker purpose than simply causing pain. The spell he used was meant to stun me, almost like a perverted form of petrifying someone. However, instead of freezing the muscles to the point that the body became brittle, this curse simply removed my ability to move on my own accord. I knew that I had heard, read, or seen it used before. However, I couldn't remember where.  
  
Utterly helpless to defend myself, I was still quite aware of what was going on around me. And, when he tangled his gloved hand in my hair and yanked my head off the ground, I quickly realized that I could still *feel* everything, as well.  
  
I just couldn't move.  
  
Which brings me back to my original statement. You *do* remember it, don't you? How I said I was going to die soon? Rather amazing how I managed to virtually predict this, isn't it? I wonder, if I somehow do managed to miraculously survive, if Professor Trelawney is looking for an assistant? All right, yes. I'll admit it. True panic is beginning to settle in, which is apparently clouding my mind. And the panic only seems to get stronger now that I'm finally noticing the way that Lucius is staring at me.  
  
If I could move my muscles, I would shiver in a mixture of revulsion and fear. There have been very few times in my life when a man has looked at me like he is. Ron did for a short time when we were at Hogwarts, Viktor did as well, although he scarcely counts, and of course, my husband *still* gives me that hungry gaze every night.  
  
Thinking of my husband makes me want to cry. He deserves better than to come home to find his wife's corpse. It will kill him, I know. He'll have such guilt about staying late tonight, forgetting that I assured him it would be fine.  
  
I want to stop thinking about him now, and apparently Lucius has learned how to read minds while in Azkaban, because he quickly re-focuses my wandering thoughts back on the present situation. Moving quickly, he picks me up and cradles me in his arms. Then, he rises to his feet and begins to walk.  
  
Since I can't move my head I'm unable to see where he's taking me. But, as I see the ceiling looming closer I realize that he's going upstairs. Struggling against the magic that is coursing through my veins, preventing me from doing anything, I try to stop him.  
  
I want to scream, shake my head, do something, *anything* to deter him from his destination. Nothing good can await for us upstairs. Upstairs only holds my precious children and my bedroom.  
  
The bedroom that I share with my husband.  
  
The bedroom that Lucius just entered.  
  
Oh Merlin, no.  
  
I can feel my vision becoming blurred as tears fill my eyes. This isn't happening. It can't be. Yet, it is. Within moments I'm lying on the bed that my husband holds me in every night, and Lucius is over top of me, staring down at me with cold eyes that have just the slightest hint of insanity in them. My tears continue to fall freely, leaking out the sides of my eyes and dropping down into my ears.  
  
The mattress shifts as he moves out of my sight and for one brief second I entertain the hope that he's changed his mind. I know I'm being foolish. He did *not* go through all of this trouble simply to curse me and leave me immobile in my bedroom.  
  
Sure enough, his face reappears, this time a cruel smirk twisting his features. His voice is soft yet icy as one of his gloved fingers gently wipes my tears away.  
  
"Now, now," he whispered soothingly. "You should really save those tears for when they're actually needed. We're just getting started, after all."  
  
I know that my eyes must have widened at his words. I'd imagine that they're huge in my face, my terror clear in their depths. I try again to force my muscles to work and am only partially surprised when I'm unable to. After all, I doubt he would curse me with a spell that would wear off quickly, not with what he has planned.  
  
His fingers are continuing to caress my cheek and I wish that I could flinch away. Instead I close my eyes, idly wondering how I'm capable of that simple movement. Shouldn't the curse have affected all my muscles?  
  
I only have a second to ponder this, however, before Lucius slaps my face lightly, causing my eyes to fly back open in mild shock. He's sneering at me, his upper lip raised slightly, giving me the same look of open disdain and disgust that I saw every day for seven years from Draco.  
  
"Don't do that again," he warns, his voice deceptively quiet. "I would hate to have to go gather up your children so they could bear the force of my wrath because their filthy Mudblood mother wouldn't listen."  
  
I honestly think my heart just stopped beating in my chest.  
  
Now I'm staring at him, forcing my eyes open to the point that they burn. Until that comment I hadn't thought it was possible for me to be any more frightened of or hate this man anymore than I already do. Obviously I was very wrong with both assumptions.  
  
He gives me the trademark Malfoy smirk once more and continues his gentle ministrations. "That's better," he soothes, apparently glad to see me complying. His hands move down past my face, to my neck and rest there.  
  
My breathing, which was already labored by this point, stops altogether. Frantically, I wonder if this is it. If it's all going to end now. Quickly, my mind pulls up images of my life.  
  
My mother's face when I received my letter to Hogwarts. The first time that I laid eyes on what became my home away from home. Harry and Ron. Fluffy. Going in search of the basilisk with the hope that my sacrifice would help solve the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets. The night in the Shrieking Shack during my third year.  
  
On and on the scenes fly by. Giving birth to two beautiful children. The sight of my son as he took his first steps. My daughter with her big eyes and even bigger heart. My husband's loving gaze as we made love in this bed just the night before.  
  
It's as this last memory assaults me that I realize something. If I'm going to die, let it be now, so that I can hold on to that image, rather than have it tainted by the man laying over me.  
  
However, much to my relief and horror, he doesn't begin to strangle me as I thought he would. Instead he begins caressing my collarbone, his eyes locked on my own and an almost gentle smile playing across his lips.  
  
Frustration and horror rage within me as I continue to try and struggle. I know that, if I can just break free of this damn curse, there is a spare wand lying in the drawer beside the bed. I remember when Ron gave it to me, refusing to answer where he got it from or why it reeked of dark magic. He simply pressed it into the palm of my hand and told me if I ever needed to defend myself, this was what I should use.  
  
But, it's useless. I know it and so does my captor. He chuckles softly as he apparently notices the anger in my eyes. Leaning closer, so that his warm breath is tickling my ear, he whispers, "How does it feel? To be utterly helpless? I remember how I felt, watching as you destroyed the one thing that I had left in this world." He raises his head and now his face is contorted in rage. "My son meant *everything* to me."  
  
I want to cry, but don't dare. After all, I know he's right. With the collapse of Voldemort and the death of Narcissa, Draco was his salvation. And I ripped it away from him without a second thought.  
  
Then, a thought occurs to me and I narrow my eyes. Of *course* I didn't have any remorse! We were at war and I did what I had to do. He would have done the same thing if the situation was reversed.  
  
Suddenly, I'm angry. This isn't right. It isn't fair. How dare he try to make me feel pity for him. He's a monster, an evil man who deserves everything he gets and more.  
  
Lucius raises an eyebrow and studies me closely. I know he's wondering what I'm thinking. He's perhaps curious as to what I would say if given the chance to defend myself. Of course, I highly doubt that I'll get the chance. After all, in order for me to speak, he has to remove the curse. And if he does that...  
  
Well, let's just say that, if given the chance, I'll show him *precisely* what this 'Mudblood' is capable of.  
  
He moves off of me, instead sitting beside me. He continues to stare at me, as if working something out in his mind. Then, he gives me a cruel grin. Pulling out his wand, he presses the tip against my throat and murmurs something that I can't hear over the roar of fear that's filled my ears.  
  
I squeeze my eyes shut, silently saying my goodbyes. However, after a few seconds, I realize that I'm still very much alive. Slowly, I reopen my eyes, my brow furrowing in confusion.  
  
Not saying anything, Lucius calmly puts his wand away and leans back over me. While I'm still trying to puzzle out what he did, he grabs my chin in his hand and squeezes tightly.  
  
Then, his mouth is upon me, his tongue forcing its way past my lips, which are tightly pressed together. And that's when it dawns on me that I can move my mouth. He must have released the curse.  
  
Quickly, I try to move my legs and arms, only to find that I'm still effectively immobile. However, this doesn't bother me as much as it should, because I'm suddenly empowered with what little movement I have. I can now defend myself against his verbal assault, as well as turn my head away from his penetrating stare and unwanted kisses.  
  
I can also scream.  
  
As if sensing my thoughts, Lucius pulls back from me, his eyes flashing a warning. "I returned your muscle control to hear your pleas of mercy. And, while I would love nothing more than to hear you scream in anguish at what I'm about to do, I'm afraid I must remind you of your children. Wake them up and watch them die," he says coldly.  
  
I nod, biting my lip as I try to think of something to say to convince him to undo the rest of the curse. Against my will my eyes cut to the left, where I can just make out the outline of the night stand. Realizing what I'm doing I focus my attention back to my captor, but it's too late.  
  
Rising to his feet, he moves to the dresser. I turn my head to follow him, trying desperately to find my voice. Isn't it amazing how, moments before I wanted nothing more than to be capable of speaking and now I can't remember how?  
  
Standing in front of the furniture, Lucius frowns. "And just what has your attention over here, Mudblood?" he asks.  
  
"N-Nothing," I finally manage to whisper, wincing at how frightened I sound.  
  
The blonde man laughs harshly. "Of course not. Let's see..." His voice trails off as his hand reaches out and pulls open the drawer. I feel all my hopes die as a truly wicked smile crosses his face. Reaching inside, he pulls out the wand that Ron gave me, turning to face me.  
  
"My, my, what do we have here? This wand certainly wouldn't meet the Ministry's standards," he coos. Then, narrowing his eyes, he flings it across the room.  
  
I wince as I hear it bounce off the wall. Unfortunately, I'm unable to raise my head far enough to see *where* it landed. Blinking back tears, I look back at him, pouring all of the hatred that I feel into that one look. "You won't get away with this," I say harshly.  
  
Lucius laughs, shaking his head. Sauntering back to me, he replies, "I don't care if I get *away* with it. They can sentence me to death, for all that it matters. The only thing I am concerned about is making you suffer before I kill you. And *that* I will succeed with."  
  
Before I can respond he pulls out his wand and aims it once more at me. One flick and my clothes are gone. Lying nude beneath him, my scathing remark dies on my lips and I close my eyes in utter humiliation. Before I realize what I'm doing, I whimper, "Please...don't do this..."  
  
He laughs once again, running his hand down the center of my body. His hand cups one breast, then the other, before continuing lower. Stopping on my abdomen, he coldly sneers, "How I do love the sound of your begging. Now, open your eyes. I won't tell you again."  
  
Remembering his earlier threats on my children I open my eyes and glare at him. Hopefully, he'll only see my anger, not my pain.  
  
Nodding with contentment he continues to caress my skin, his fingers finally reaching the apex of my thighs. I whimper as he pauses, his eyes searching my face. I know what he's doing. He's wanting to draw this out as long as possible.  
  
And there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.  
  
I lock eyes with him, refusing to succumb to his mind games. I may have slipped up and begged him once, but it will *not* happen again. I am better than that. I've been in far worse situations than this, even if I can't remember them at the moment. I may be forced to take whatever abuse he sends my way, but I will not allow him to break me.  
  
As soon as I finish my silent vow he removes his hand. I blink in confusion and his only answer is a smirk that causes my blood to run cold.  
  
Slowly, as if he were an animal stalking its prey, he crawls over me. Using his legs he forces my thighs apart, so that he's now effectively lying on top of me. He has his hands at either side of my head, his face inches from my own. And I can feel him pressing against my now vulnerable entrance.  
  
I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood as he remains in that position. Not quite violating yet not letting me believe he's going to change his mind. I want to turn my head and close my eyes against his cold, hateful gaze. I want to scream at him to stop, beg him not to do this to me.  
  
Yet I can't.  
  
For the first time in my life I am unable to defend myself. My magical ability, sharp mind, and over all intelligence are useless against this type of assault. And, of course, that's precisely the reason that he's doing this. However, I'm standing firm in my decision not to let him see me affected.  
  
However, when his hips move suddenly and he buries himself in me, I can't hold back the gasp of pain and shock that escapes my lips. Pure, white-hot pain rushes through my body, making the room spin slightly as he pulls out and enters me once more.  
  
Slowly, a tear trickles out of my eye before I put a strong clamp on my emotions. Still, it's more than enough for Lucius and he smirks in satisfaction. His movements speed up until he's slamming into me so hard that I begin scooting across the mattress. One of his hands on my hips stops that limited movement, though.  
  
It feels as though I'm losing consciousness at the horror of what is happening. The sounds around me are muffled and I'm faintly aware of the searing pain of my sensitive flesh ripping in an effort to accommodate him. I blink, refusing to pass out. I'm afraid if I do that he'll lose interest in me and go after my children.  
  
He continues on, his breath hot over my face as he bites at my lips until I open my mouth. Then, his kisses me ferociously, stealing my breath away as he continues to rape me.  
  
My mind is in a whirl, trying to shut itself down yet not wanting to. I always have been too inquisitive for my own good. Even now, I find myself comparing what is happening to the text that I'd read on the subject.  
  
Most victims, the ones who are willing to talk about it at least, tells tales of floating high above the assault, as if their soul leaves their body in order to block out the pain. Not me, though. I'm more than aware of everything. From the blood that is providing a slight lubricant to the smell of his sweat. I can feel the bruises that are forming across my body and taste the bile that is caught in the back of my throat.  
  
I'm not certain how much time passes before he finally lifts his head and stares into my face. His eyes are glazed over and I bite my tongue to stop myself from whimpering. His smirk is gone now, replaced with a look that is completely unreadable to me. Finally, his eyes drop close and he rests his forehead in the crook of my neck as he slams into me a few more times. Then, his entire body goes rigid and he collapses on top of me, panting.  
  
He lays like that for a few moments, composing himself. Meanwhile, I'm trying to gain control over my raging emotions. I continuously repeat my mantra. I will *not* allow him to break me. Because breaking me would mean that he wins. And, while he may have stolen something from me tonight, the least of which is my dignity, I refuse to let him claim this as a victory.  
  
After what feels like an eternity he rolls off of me. I stare at the ceiling, refusing to meet his eyes. For once, I don't want to know what is coming next. It cannot possibly be any worse that what has just taken place.  
  
Then, I see something shine out of the corner of my eye and realize how very wrong I am.  
  
Forcing my throbbing head to turn, I stare with no small amount of terror at the extremely large knife that he's holding. Swallowing hard, I raise my gaze to stare at his face, shocked at what I see.  
  
No longer does he resemble the crazed man that just violated me. Nor does he look anything like the Lucius Malfoy that he once was. No, this person is looks dead. His eyes are empty, almost looking as though he'd suffered a Dementor's Kiss yet found a way to move around.  
  
As he walks from the side of the bed to the window, his steps seem almost mechanic. He pushes the curtains aside, staring out into the darkness. As he does this, I blink back tears, silently screaming for anyone who may be listening to help me. While I certainly don't want to die, I most especially don't want to die like *this*.  
  
I've seen what stab wounds look like, know how painfully they can kill you. Unlike a killing curse, or even a gun, most knife victims die slowly, drowning in a pool of their own blood as it seeps into their lungs. Of course, there's always the possibility that Lucius is using the knife for scare tactics alone.  
  
However, something tells me that isn't the case.  
  
Shaking my head slightly, I force myself back to the here and now. Back to the continuos pain between my legs, back to the tattered remains of my self esteem, which is slowly being eaten away by humiliation. I lock my eyes on the blonde man at my window, wondering what game he's playing now.  
  
Suddenly, he speaks, although it takes me a moment to set aside my hysteria and realize it's him. "I've spent the last ten years planning this day. I wanted to make you suffer as I did. Upon my release, I learned of your children and even entertained the notion of doing to them what you did to Draco." His voice sounds hollow as he talks, his eyes still staring out the window at something that only he can see. "I spent my entire life hating your kind. The Muggles, the Mudbloods, anyone that wasn't a pureblooded wizard or witch. I aligned myself with the Dark Lord and would do it again if given the chance."  
  
Quickly he turns to me, although he makes no move to approach me. "Everything that I have done in the coarse of my life was to reach one single goal. To prepare this world so that I could pass it along to my son. Then you came along and ruined all of that. He was *my* child, and you ripped him away from me without a second thought."  
  
I force myself not to respond, silently hoping that his impromptu speech will last until I can move again. However, anger is quickly rising inside of me at his words and I suddenly can't hold back any longer.  
  
"We were at war! I did what I had to do. And, just like you, I don't regret it." My voice sounds strange to my ears, hoarse from misuse and clearly lacking the fear that I feel.  
  
In two strides he is beside me, his hand connecting with my cheek. My head rocks to the side and I taste blood. My vision blurs slightly yet I shake it off. Using what little strength I have left, I twist my head back, staring defiantly up at him.  
  
"You may kill me, but it doesn't change a thing. You're still a sad, pathetic man who put stock in the wrong side and lost," I wheeze out.  
  
Lucius narrows his eyes. Then, he pauses and a truly eerie smile crosses his face. "Enough. I am Lucius Malfoy. I do not have petty arguments with filthy Mudbloods," he says calmly. Pressing the knife to my throat, he continues, "Now it's time for a little experiment. Let's see how much pain you can stand before you pass out and I'm forced to revive you."  
  
Against my will I whimper. All at once my resolve vanishes and I'm prepared to beg him. Not for my life, mind you. Just for him to get it over with. Don't drag this out any longer.  
  
Then, I hear the sweetest sound in the world.  
  
"Get the *hell* away from my wife."  
  
Lucius raises his head, his eyes widening slightly as Draco enters the room, his wand trained on his father. My vision clouds with tears and I sob quietly, unable to believe that it's over.  
  
Of course, the knife hasn't left my throat yet. Lucius suddenly smirks, his eyes flashing dangerously as he pushes the sharp blade harder against my skin. "I was wondering when you would arrive. I must admit, you're timing is impeccable as it always was," he said calmly.  
  
Shock slams into me. He *planned* this? However, Draco seems rather unfazed by the comment. He continues to glare, his knuckles whitening as he grips his wand tighter.  
  
"I'm not warning you again, Father," he say in a cold voice. "Step away from Hermione."  
  
The two men stare at one another and I watch, my breath caught in my throat. I should have known that this would eventually happen. When Draco made his choice before it was during the chaos of the war. He never told his father that he wasn't taking the Mark. He never explained that he was going to be fighting alongside his sworn enemy, Harry Potter.  
  
He only told Lucius that he was in love.  
  
With me.  
  
I can still remember that night. Walking out of Malfoy Manor, Draco squeezing my hand tightly. I can close my eyes and hear Lucius' screams of rage, betrayal, and heartache. I can see the anguished look on my beloved's face as we apparated away. He knew then that he would never have the father that he'd always wanted.  
  
It's taken ten long years, but he's finally come to terms with that. And, unlike that fateful night, I have no doubt that he won't allow himself to be affected by the memory of a father that never was any longer. However, apparently Lucius doesn't know that.  
  
He's still staring at his son, most likely wondering why Draco hasn't dropped his wand yet. It's becoming increasingly clear that they've reached a stalemate. Father and son, complete opposites in everything but looks.  
  
Of course, knowing Draco, he's already contacted the Ministry. He's just biding his time until the Aurors arrive. And, judging by the slight pain that suddenly occurs in my neck, Lucius has figured it out as well.  
  
I can feel the small puncture wound as he digs the blade deeper. His voice calm, he says, "It's time to see what kind of man you really are, Draco. If you're truly capable of killing your own father to save the life of a mere Mudblood."  
  
Draco raises an eyebrow, a smirk slowly filling his face. "She isn't a Mudblood, Father," he replies evenly. "She is my wife and the mother of my children. I would give my own life for hers without pause. And, while I don't wish to kill you solely because you are my father, I will not hesitate to do so if you do not step away from her *this* instant." Instead of heeding his warning, Lucius laughs. I can see his wrist move, yet it isn't until I can feel the blood begin seeping from my throat that I realize that he's cut me. I gasp, although it comes out as a gurgle. Staring at my husband, I can feel my life slowly leaving me.  
  
Draco screams, his eyes locked on me. Seeing his chance, Lucius throws himself at his son, sending them both flying into the wall. My eyes are becoming heavy now, but I refuse to close them. I have to see, have to know how it ends. I want to watch as Draco utters the curse that will end Lucius' life.  
  
However, it doesn't happen.  
  
Horrified, I watch as Lucius gains the upper hand. He clamps his hand around his son's neck, at the same time forcing Draco to drop his wand. Draco begins clawing at him, trying to get loose so he can take in much needed air. Finally, as what little color he has begins to fade, he turns his eyes to mine.  
  
I know at that moment that it's over. I can only assume that, once we're both dead, Lucius will go to our children. Whether he kills them or not is irrelevant. Their life as they know it is ending this night as well.  
  
Closing my eyes, I begin to allow myself to drift into the blessed darkness before me. Then, I hear something that forces me awake once again. A soft creak, a small gasp, and I feel everything else fade away.  
  
My son is standing in the doorway.  
  
And he's holding the wand Ron gave to me.  
  
Aiming it at the stranger that is attacking his daddy, I see his mouth move, although I can't quite hear what he says. However, the moment his lips stop moving, I realize what he's done.  
  
A bright green light shoots from the wand, striking Lucius in the back. The man's eyes widen as his entire body stiffens and then he crumples to the ground. Draco doubles over, gasping in large amounts of air, before finally raising his head and staring in shock at his son.  
  
My son stands frozen in the doorway, his eyes huge in his small face. Slowly, the wand drops from his hand and he backs up, shaking his head as he stares from me, to his father, to Lucius.  
  
It's at that moment that the room fills with Aurors, Ron and Harry at the front. They rush in, immediately coming to my side. I can feel the slight tickle as they begin whispering healing spells mixed in with words of assurance that everything is going to be fine.  
  
But it isn't fine. It never will be again, either. For, while I may have survived, Lucius still managed to get his revenge. Granted, he didn't get it in the form of my life, or even the life of my husband. But, he got it nonetheless.  
  
You see, tonight Lucius Malfoy managed to do the same thing that I did to him so many years ago, albeit in reverse.  
  
I took his son and turned him into a hero.  
  
He took my son and made him a murderer.  
  
The End 


End file.
